You Don't Understand:
by S.N. Rainsworth
Summary: Because they don't. They never can. Not really.


.

.

_there is a little girl who thinks that everything will be okay.  
she's got no shoes on her feet and no coat on her arms  
and her heart's worn on her non-existent sleeve. _

_._

_._

Elysia Hughes, seventeen, walked throughout the days she spent in her home, pictures of memories that never did last for long. There were many sepia tinted pictures, smiles that were hinted of reds and deep orange-browns. Most were in black and white, though.

She felt the ghost of her own smile pass. Ah, those were the better times, where her mother's happy emotions weren't that fake anymore.

Elysia nonchalantly threw the first picture on the ground, not bothering to pick it up. In this old apartment where she was born in and lived for most of her life, she really didn't care. Her mother was still in the hospital, trying to recover from a particularly bad case of the flu, but Elysia somehow doubted that she'd come back. Gracia Hughes, however only in her forties, was a rather weak woman.

The brunette decided she'd visit her mother later.

Sighing and grabbing her coat, she stood up and put on her summer shoes, idly looking at the picture framed upon the mantle of the fireplace. The first was of her as a child, small and chubby with her short brown hair in two pigtails, with her father holding her while her mother laughed. Beside that was another photo of them, all three of them, together. After was only her parents, then a picture of a long-haired blonde and a suit of armor putting a laurel on her head while having a crown of flowers on his own; _Uncle Ed and Al,_ she thought fondly.

The last picture was of her, at sixteen laster, a small awkward smile on her face and her hair let out. Next to her was her long-time boyfriend and childhood friend, standing with an arm around her waist.

Elysia turns away from the memories and walked outside.

.

.

.

The air is slightly chilly of the night, causing her to shiver once but not feel the cold so immensely soon.

She looks up at the sky, which is blue in color and dark, like those indigo ribbons she would wear when she went to school. Beside her, there were people crossing her by, talking to each other or laughing with their friends. Up ahead, fireworks shot across the air.

Elysia ignored all this, stuffed a bare hand in her pocket only to bring up a spare stick of gum. she unwrapped it with practiced ease and stuck it in her mouth, chewing rhythmically. Ever since she was on withdrawal from her smoking problem, she was 'prescribed' to stick to gum to get rid of it. It was working, somewhat. She hadn't smoked for weeks.

The small, slow income of people decreased as the only Hughes went ahead to a more isolated part of town, where the large tenant apartments disappeared into small houses and there wasn't a car for blocks. The wind blew softly, rustled her hair in a soothing manner.

Elysia Hughes looked up at the large iron gate, seemingly looming over her and her whole word.

Sighing, she knew she was being sappy and furrowed her brow. She rolled her eyes and took a step, but when she made another move to go in, she found herself hesitating, not being able to take that step.

"Why..." she whispered, voice carrying as a low crackle. "Why...after all these years..."

Swallowing something thick in her throat, she forced herself to take that step. When she did, she felt immobilized again. Growling to herself, she shut her eyes tight and ran, pushing those iron doors open.

Letting out a slow breath she didn't know she held, Elysia Hughes's lower lip trembled when her eyes roamed the small, stubbornly clean area, void of any living thing. The slabs of stone were held in uneven rows, some reaching high and some staying near the ground. They all had some sort of inscription on their faces. Elysia swallowed and moved with ease in between graves, going on until the many markstones started to lessen in number.

All that was left was the semi-bare land of the back area. There was the small graves of those who died in the military; not many, in fact, which came as a surprise at first, but then a pleasant place to stay. Even though she was filled with dead people in coffins, Elysia would remember spending her days here, leaning against a nearby tree and basking in the silence while reading a book.

At Christmas, she would come and place a wreath of Christmas roses on them, seeing as no one else had. Her life was centered around them; she spent her adolescence here, away from friends and boyfriends and all the stress. She could hear little whispers, like the living dead coming to tell her their secrets.

Honestly, on the inside, she enjoyed it.

Walking up to a certain grave, Elysia licked her parched lips before muttering out her words. "Hey. Dad."

Odd.

Her mind was blank.

"So...it's been, like, three years since I've last been here, right?" she twiddled her thumbs nervously. "Yeah, so...I don't know why, but whenever I wanted to come visit you, the gate's always been shut and I could never open it..." _More like I was too scared to open it, _the brunette admitted to herself, flinching at the confession.

"It's been fourteen years, you know. Since you died. I think...I think I've grown up pretty well. Mom is still in the hospital; I think you'll see her soon, Dad. I'm going to get married in a few months, so you don't need to be worried about me being alone," a small smile. "I know how I'm young and all, but...I feel ready. It'll not be as fun without you there to give me away, though. Uncle Roy or Uncle Edward might give me away. Aunt Winry just had another baby - they told me that everything you said came true, even about Uncle Roy and Aunt Riza's marriage."

Elysia made a snap decision and sat down on the ground. The little springs of grass were cool beneath her fingertips.

"I...I hate you, you know."

There was silence. Elysia swallowed, and hesitantly sniffed.

"I hate you a lot. I hate the fact that I can't make Mom happy. I hate the fact that I don't have my father to give me away to his new son-in-law. I hate the fact that you won't see your grandchild. I hate it when...when I remember how you left us. I hate it when I ask Uncle Ed or Uncle Roy about you, and they...they just seem like they're in _pain._ I hate it, Dad. I hate it, and I hate you for making me hate it."

Unbidden, there were drops of water that hit the greenery below.

"You know, you're a real bastard for putting me through that."

It wasn't rain.

"I know your loyal. I know your brave. I know you can make someone laugh, or turn their sad day into a happy one. I know, because I found out these things myself," Elysia said, lip trembling. "I know, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. I - I..."

Behind her, there was the loud sound of drums and exploding firecrackers. Bright lights lit up the sky and highlighted Elysia's face.

She was crying.

"I just wish you'd come b-back."

There was a shuffle of fabric, and then the slight movement of legs as the brunette brought her legs closer to herself.

"I miss you."

_It hurts. _

She didn't say it aloud, but with the chilled wind around her and her constantly flowing tears, the festivites behind her started to reach it's peak. And as music played and drums banged, people cheered and threw confetti in the air, one Elysia Hughes stayed close to death and smiled when she heard the faintest of answers, before her eyes closed in exhaustion and her mind drifted into blissful darkness of sleep, right by her father.

_I know, sweetheart. I know._

.

.

_and she says, emptily to the entities that they cannot see,  
"I love you,"  
but no one hears her  
because they don't know.  
not really._

_._

_._


End file.
